Chapter 18 Sage #2
The construction site softens into silence once they're gone.
The scent of pine drifts lightly through the half-built structure while the concrete slab beneath my feet still holds a trace of the afternoon's warmth.
The beams rise around us, open to the sky that glows with streaks of soft gold and pale rose.
My heart starts to beat faster, a nervous flutter that spreads through my chest. I smooth my hands down the front of my jeans, then tuck my hair behind my ears even though it doesn't need tucking. The air feels charged somehow, electric with anticipation.
Luka approaches with a stride I've come to recognize, confident but unhurried.
His focus is entirely on me as he crosses the slab, and the change in his expression sends a ripple of longing through me.
The corners of his mouth lift slightly, not quite a smile but close.
His hazel eyes, which can look so cold when he's working, are warm now. Almost soft.
He holds out a hand when he reaches me. His palm is rough with calluses, evidence of years spent building his empire with more than just commands.
When I place mine in his, a gentle heat moves through me.
He leads me across the faint chalk outlines, his fingers laced through mine, stopping at the space where the counter will rise again.
This is where everything began. Where he walked in with Vega on that first morning, where my life changed without even realizing it.
I remember the way he looked at me then, assessing and dangerous, like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.
Now, when he looks at me, it’s entirely different, an intensity that makes my breath hitch and my pulse quicken.
Blueprints lie spread across a makeshift surface beside us, their corners weighted down with spare nails and chunks of wood. Luka gestures toward the largest page and taps a finger lightly against the paper. The motion is gentle, almost reverent.
“Expanded kitchen,” he explains quietly, his accent wrapping around the words. “More room for the bakers. Better ovens. Extra storage so you stop threatening to throw things when deliveries pile up.”
A small smile pulls at my mouth despite the nerves dancing in my stomach. He remembered. Every complaint I've ever made about the old kitchen, and every time I've cursed at the too-small refrigerator or the ancient oven that heated unevenly. He's been listening all along.
He continues, his finger tracing along the page. “Additional seating here.” The pad of his finger slides across the blueprint, leaving a faint smudge on the clean paper. “More space for students, travelers, and anyone who wants to stay instead of rushing out.”
His voice softens when he points to a shaded corner near the front, and I lean closer to see what he's indicating. His shoulder brushes against mine, warm and solid.
“This section is for a small reading area.” His words come slower now, more deliberate.
“Softer chairs. A place for community nights. Or for when the baby is old enough to curl into your lap with a book.” He pauses, his eyes finding mine.
“Or for evenings when you finally sit for more than five minutes.”
My breath hitches as emotion wells up in my throat.
My hand moves instinctively to the gentle curve of my stomach, visible enough that locals comment on it with affectionate certainty.
I imagine this space full again, imagine friendships and conversation, and the simple joy of a life no longer lived in crisis.
I imagine a toddler with dark hair and hazel eyes running between these tables while I try to work.
The image is so vivid that it makes my chest ache.
When I lift my eyes, Luka's composure has changed in a way I've rarely seen.
Confidence still lives in him, always will, but something more vulnerable rests just beneath it.
His jaw tightens in a way that isn't defensive but careful, like he's holding something precious and afraid of dropping it. His gaze moves from the blueprints to my face, lingering like he’s working up the nerve to say something he can’t take back.
The sunset paints him in soft color, brushing gold along his cheekbones and rose across his mouth.
The breeze stirs the sawdust around us, sending tiny particles dancing through the air.
Vega lowers himself at my feet, his breathing slow and even, as if he senses something important is about to happen.
Luka steps closer, eliminating the small distance that remained between us. “Sage,” he begins, and there's a tremor in his voice that steals my breath.
My heart pounds against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears. My palms start to sweat despite the cooling air. Something in his tone and in the way he's looking at me tells me the ground beneath my feet is about to tilt again. But this time, it doesn't feel like falling. It feels like flying.
He holds my gaze, completely unguarded for the first time since I've known him, and I understand that something life-altering rests on the next words he speaks.
The vulnerability in his expression makes me want to reach out and touch his face and smooth away the tension I see there.
But I stay still, waiting, hardly breathing.
The world narrows until there's only him and me and this moment suspended between us.
His hand lifts, his fingers brushing against my cheek.
The touch is feather-light, tentative in a way that's completely unlike him.
This man, who commands empires and dismantles enemies without hesitation, is nervous.
The realization makes my eyes sting with unshed tears.
“I never thought I would find this,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “Never thought I would want it. But you walked into my life with your blue eyes and your stubborn heart, and you changed everything.”
I try to speak, but no words come out, so I just stand there, feeling my nerves ripple, waiting for him to continue.
“You have given me something I did not know I needed,” he goes on, his voice rough with emotion. “A reason to build instead of just protect. A future that is more than just strategy and survival.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, hot and unstoppable. He catches them with his thumb, wiping them away with gentle strokes that make me cry harder.
“You are the strongest person I know,” he tells me, his eyes never leaving mine. “You walked through fire and didn't break. You protected your sister, fought your father, and saved our child. You did all of that while carrying more fear than anyone should have to bear.”
My hand covers his where it rests against my face, holding him there. His palm is warm, rough with calluses, and I press my cheek into it like I can absorb his strength through touch alone.
“I love you, Sage.” The words fall between us, simple and devastating. “I love your fierce heart and your gentle hands. I love the way you fight for the people you care about. I love that you see the best in people even when they do not deserve it. I love every stubborn, beautiful part of you.”
A sob breaks free from my chest, and I cover my mouth with my free hand, trying to hold myself together. But I'm falling apart in the best possible way, all the fear, pain, and exhaustion of the past months releasing in a flood of tears.
Luka's other hand moves to my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies are pressed together. I can feel his heart beating against mine, rapid and strong. His forehead lowers to rest against mine, and we stand there breathing the same air, sharing the same space, existing in this perfect moment.